


what's this?

by Feather (lalaietha)



Series: (even if i could) make a deal with god [your blue-eyed boys related short-fic] [39]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Disabled Character, Just Add Kittens, M/M, Mentally Ill Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2222580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalaietha/pseuds/Feather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve takes a minute to get rid of the bags in his hands, tossing sketchbook and new pencils on the dining-room table and putting the two replacement drinking glasses away in the cupboard. Then he pours himself a cup of coffee, microwaves it, stirs his sugar in, and <i>then</i> goes out around the corner and pays enough attention to see the little circle of orange fur curled up to one side of Bucky's chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what's this?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of [**this series**](http://archiveofourown.org/series/132585), which is for short-fic associated with my fic [**your blue-eyed boys**](http://archiveofourown.org/series/107477), because I needed somewhere to stash it.

Admittedly, it takes Steve a minute. He will maintain to the end that minute isn't about not being aware - it's about the fact that the _important_ thing for him to be aware of is Bucky lying on the couch on his back with his right hand behind his head and his left hand across his stomach with his eyes closed listening to something operatic in Italian, which is about as good an indication as anyone'll ever _get_ that everything's about as safe as it can be. At that point, Steve's situational awareness is honest-to-God redundant no matter what, so why waste the vigilance?

So knowing everything's fine, Steve takes a minute to get rid of the bags in his hands, tossing sketchbook and new pencils on the dining-room table and putting the two replacement drinking glasses away in the cupboard. Then he pours himself a cup of coffee, microwaves it, stirs his sugar in, and _then_ goes out around the corner and pays enough attention to see the little circle of orange fur curled up to one side of Bucky's chest and be caught completely flat footed by it.

Steve stands and watches the kitten for a bit as it sleeps in a limp little curl. It's an orange tabby, short-haired, and it's _tiny_ , maybe small enough it still needs milk rather than cat-food. It's totally relaxed, still in a curl only because that was clearly how it was lying when it fell asleep, and its tiny belly and chest move at about twice the rate of Bucky's breaths. It's definitely a living, real kitten. 

Steve stops himself from pointing out the kitten, because no matter how he does it he knows the first thing he's going to get is muttering about how long it took him to notice and he's not really interested just now. Instead, after a few seconds of knowing that Bucky knows Steve's standing there looking, he leans over, turns the speakers down and says, "Buck, _why_ 's there a kitten sleeping on you?" 

Bucky's still twitchy enough that he's only wearing a racer-back rather than a proper shirt, and Steve's surprised he doesn't have a blanket on. He's also surprised by the exasperated tone to Bucky's sigh, mostly because Steve doesn't think it's aimed at him. 

"Because I'm too fucking easy to manipulate if you're a thirteen year old girl with long eyelashes," Bucky replies a little sourly, not opening his eyes. "And then that's where she wanted to sleep. I'm supposed to be sleeping, so I didn't kick her off yet." 

And that's a load of bull, Steve thinks, but if having a baby cat sleep on him keeps Bucky still and pretending to sleep himself, then that's one point in her favour and Steve hasn't even thought about this yet. "Mercedes gave you a kitten?" he says aloud, not bothering to try hiding the amusement because Bucky wouldn't believe him anyway. Besides, it's hilarious. Bucky was an only child, and then there's _everything else_ , and yet here and now, he's basically picked up a surrogate niece. "Why did she have one? Her brother's allergic." 

"I know," Bucky says, still a touch sour. "'parantly her idiot friends decided to rescue a litter with a dead mother and find suckers to take them. They had too many left." He cracks one eye open at Steve and adds, sardonic, "And this one's got an eye infection. Lucky you weren't fucking home or we'd probably have all three of'em," he goes on, probably in response to the fact that Steve knows he's grinning, because that's even funnier. "Fuck knows one's ridiculous enough." 

"I didn't hear about the kittens," Steve remarks, and Bucky snorts, closing his eyes again. 

"Of course not," he says, half-mocking. "I'm _much_ too scary for anyone to knock on the door." 

And you don't actually have to be very perceptive at all to follow the unspoken thought back around to pride about the part where Mercedes didn't think so _and_ didn't think so hard enough to go ahead and try to wheedle him into taking one, but Steve's got a strict policy of not actually needling anywhere near the single spontaneous human contact Bucky's made yet. Being amused at the interactions is as far as he'll go, because Bucky finds it ruefully funny himself; he's not going further. 

He's considered writing Mrs Sandoval a card, except he's not sure there's a way to put the gratitude without it sounding . . . a bit off. _Thanks for having a kid so stubbornly set on being brave and believing in the things she believes in that she goes out of her way to make friends with reclusive strangers she's actually pretty sure used to be dangerous killers._ Yeah. That doesn't really . . . work. 

"I got some litter from the vet-student," Bucky goes on, sounding slightly grumpy but more resigned, "and some kitten formula, and the litter's in that pan that got all fucking charred up anyway, over in a corner in the bathroom." 

So it looks like they have a cat. Steve sips his coffee and then asks, "What're you gonna name her?" 

"Who says I'm gonna?" Bucky replies, opening his eyes enough to frown. 

"You can't just call her 'cat'," Steve tells him, knowing it's just going to make Bucky stubborn but pretty definite about it anyway. 

"Who says?" Bucky demands. "What's she need a name for? It's not like there's a bunch of cats running around here to confuse her with." 

"If you don't name her," Steve informs him, "I will. And I'll pick something that'll make you want to hit your head on the wall." 

Bucky rolls his eyes and then ostentatiously closes them again. "Fuck you're ridiculous sometimes." 

In the end, Steve tells Bucky he'll give him two weeks to name the kitten before Steve does. In the end, Bucky grumpily comes up with _Abrikoska_ , which Steve suspects is as close to _orange cat_ as Bucky figures Steve'll let him get away with.


End file.
